The marble floors of the Dallas mansion shone bright under the grand chandeliers. Wealthy guests walked around holding glass flutes filled with expensive champagne while soft music played in the background. Among the crowd was Victoria Vance, a woman known throughout the city for her vast family fortune and quick temper. She wore a striking red off-the-shoulder dress that trailed slightly along the pristine floor. Victoria walked through the room as if she owned every single person inside it. She never looked people in the eye unless she was giving an order. Near the entrance to the inner study, Sarah stood silently in her modest maid uniform. Sarah was twenty-four years old and worked two jobs to support her young daughter and pay for her mother's medical expenses. She held a tray with fresh glasses, keeping her head low and remaining completely out of the way. Beside her, near a small sitting nook, sat an elderly woman named Eleanor. Eleanor was dressed simply in a navy wool cardigan, looking quiet and slightly confused by the loud crowd around her. Victoria marched down the hallway, her high heels clicking loudly against the checkerboard marble floor. She was arguing on her phone with her stylist about an upcoming magazine cover shoot. As she rounded the corner near the study, she did not bother to look ahead. At that exact moment, little Lily, Sarah's four-year-old daughter who was sitting quietly behind a velvet curtain, stumbled forward after dropping her toy train. Sarah saw the heavy glass vase on a nearby pedestal begin to wobble as Victoria brushed past it with heavy force. Without thinking twice, Sarah dropped her tray and lunged forward to shield the old woman and the child from falling glass. The vase shattered into a hundred pieces across the floor, splashing water and crushed floral stems all over the bottom of Victoria's designer dress. Victoria shrieked in absolute rage. The loud noise instantly silenced the entire hallway. Guests stopped talking and turned their heads toward the commotion. Victoria stared down at the damp red fabric of her gown, her face contorting with extreme anger. She did not ask if anyone was hurt or if the child was safe. Instead, her eyes locked onto Sarah, who was trembling on the floor while holding her crying daughter close to her chest. Victoria raised her hand and pointed her finger directly at Sarah's face, her voice echoing off the high gold-trimmed ceilings. The tension in the room spiked immediately as everyone waited to see how the cruel socialite would react to the wet stain on her famous dress.